“Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent. “Would you wait for me?” Manning was silent for a space. There is the key. Wood," she continued, with a sudden change of tone, and convulsively clutching the carpenter's arm, "promise it me. And a time will come, Veronica, mark my words, a time will come when you will bless me for my firmness to-night.
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